


Thank the Projectionist

by chemicaldefect, ThornyHedge



Category: Real Person Fiction, The Hobbit (2012) RPF, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 11:04:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemicaldefect/pseuds/chemicaldefect, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThornyHedge/pseuds/ThornyHedge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the night of the premiere, and it's been three months since Aidan and Dean got to touch one another. Good thing the Projection Room is empty.</p><p>An Aidean RP featuring ThornyHedge as Dean and chemicaldefect as Aidan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank the Projectionist

**Author's Note:**

> ThornyHedge and I discovered that we liked each other’s porn. RP ensued.

The movie had let out about an hour ago; the cast were now all varying levels of intoxicated, excited to reunite after months apart. Aidan absently listened to the story Richard was telling him - it had to do with the Silmarillion, he thought - and grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter. His eyes searched the crowd until they found Dean, laughing in the opposite corner of the room with Jed. He sighed wistfully and downed the drink in one gulp, looking longingly at his costar across the room.

If Dean had to listen to one more story about Jed's kids he was going to jab a pickle fork into his ear.  He couldn't wait to blow this popsicle stand and spend some quality time with Aidan.  If only he could get him away from Richard.  Then, he caught Aidan's smile and knew. Aidan had missed him as much as he missed Aidan.  Dean quirked his eyebrow at Aidan and bid Jed a hasty, if somewhat faltering, farewell.

Aidan huffed out a sigh of relief when he saw Dean sauntering across the room toward him, eyebrow raised in an unspoken question. The brunet grinned wolfishly.  He set his empty glass on the bar and laid a placating hand on Richard's arm, forestalling another tirade about the differences between Radagast and Tom Bombadil.

"Richard, it's been lovely, but, um…" an excuse suddenly escaped him, and he cast a glance over at Dean, coming ever closer.

"Richard!" Dean exclaimed, interrupting the pair. He threw his arms around his cast mate and embraced him, clapping him on the back. "Hope you don't mind if I borrow my 'brother' for bit?" he asked, when they pulled apart.

"Oh, yes, of course," Richard looked a bit flustered at the interruption; Aidan stifled an unmanly giggle as the older actor made an awkward retreat. "I'll just…I think that - Hey, Peter, a few words, please!"

He stepped into the crowd, leaving Dean and Aidan alone at the bar.

"Saved by Peter," Dean smiled broadly.  "God, Aid," he breathed.  "I've missed you so much.  Skype and cell phones just don't cut it for me."

"Christ, I know." Aidan looked around to make sure nobody was watching and laced his fingers with Dean's, thumb tracing over the knuckles gently. "All I've been able to think about all night is your hands on me."

"I guess great minds think alike," Dean's gaze was laced with lust.  "D'you suppose there's anyplace here we can go?  Y'know... for privacy?"

Aidan let his fingers trail up under Dean's cuff, ghosting over the pulse point on his wrist. "It's a big building, there's bound to be a coat closet or something out in the hallway."

Dean's breath stuttered and his dick twitched at the anticipation of getting lucky - or getting caught.  "Let's go find out," he pulled Aidan through the throng in the lobby, seeking a cubby hole, janitor's closet... anything.

Aidan laughed breathlessly as he trailed behind his boyfriend, resisting the urge to grope the adorable ass in front of him until they were alone in the hall - he only had so much willpower, especially after months with nothing but his own hand and Dean's voice in his ear or grainy image on a computer screen. He let his hand slide low and kneaded the muscle with sure fingertips, leaning down to whisper hotly against the shell of Dean's ear, "So which door should we try first?"

"Mmmm," Dean groaned softly, resisting the urge to lean back and have his way with Aidan then and there.  "Oh, I've got it! That one," he pointed at a wooden door with a gold nameplate on it that said Projection Room. Dean strode forward and gently tried the knob.  Much to his delight, it opened, revealing a flight of stairs.  "If anyone asks," he turned to Aidan. "We just wanted to thank the projectionist."  

That earned a delighted laugh and a playful smack on the ass from Aidan, who impatiently nudged Dean up the stairs. "Well, it is partially his fault that you looked so fuckable on that giant screen. God bless digital projection." There was another door at the top of the stairs. Once inside, Aidan spun Dean around and pressed him against it, lips slotting over his boyfriend's for the first time in ages.

Dean growled longingly into the prolonged kiss, one hand automatically twining in Aidan's curls.  The other moved decidedly to his ass and pulled Aidan's hips flush to his own.  "Three months of hell," he breathed softly, as they pulled apart.  He lay his forehead against Aidan's.  "Pure hell."

Aidan's hands fisted in the expensive material of Dean's jacket, hauling him impossibly closer, and he growled in agreement. "Fuck, Dean. I missed you so goddamn much. I don't know how I did it."

"Work," Dean said resolutely.  "I throw myself into Bragi and it helps me get through the days.  The nights, on the other hand," he raised his mouth to Aidan's neck and deeply inhaled the scent of him.  "The nights were awful."

The brunet's head fell back at the feeling of Dean's breath caressing his neck, a needy whimper slipping from his lips. One hand slid up to tangle in Dean's short blond hair. "I don't want to think about it anymore. You're here now, you're really here."

"Oh, I'm here all right," Dean assured him, hands traveling over Aidan's shoulders, down his chest and coming to rest on his fly.  "Can I-?" he raised his eyes, seeking permission. 

"God, of course, Dean, _please_." He cupped the blond's face in large palms and kissed him again, running his tongue along the seam of his lips, eager to taste him.

Dean's arms stole around Aidan's waist and he lost himself to the kiss, allowing Aidan to explore his mouth at his whim as they ground their arousals together slowly, torturously.  The kiss left him gasping as he gently unbuttoned Aidan's pants and lowered his zipper.  He slid one hand down into Aidan's underwear and cupped him, nipping at his jawline. 

Aidan cursed under his breath, rocking his hips into Dean's hand in desperate search of friction. His own hands fell to Dean's hips, fingers sliding under the jacket to tug his shirt out of his trousers. He let out a sigh of relief when his fingertips made contact with warm skin, gently caressing Dean's lower back just above the waist of his pants.

Dean slowly sank to his knees between Aidan and the door, easing Aidan's trousers and underwear gradually down over the swell of his ass as he went.  "Dying to taste you," he breathed, and engulfed the tip of Aidan's cock, swirling his tongue around it like a treat he'd been denied for far too long. He hummed, taking Aidan deeper into his mouth, hands creeping up the back of Aidan's taut thighs to his ass.

"Jesus, I've missed your mouth." The words were hoarse, Aidan's voice low and gravelly. He resisted the urge to buck into that welcoming heat, afraid of pushing too far and hurting the blond. His thighs trembled with the effort of holding back, and he braced a hand against the door behind Dean to keep from collapsing on the spot.

Dean pulled off with a gasp.  "Do it, Aid," he encouraged.  "Fuck my mouth. I've been fantasizing about it since you flew home," he confessed, biting his lower lip invitingly.  "I'll let you know if it gets to be too much," his blue eyes shone solemnly and he closed his mouth over Aidan's dick once again.

A strangled laugh erupted from Aidan's throat and he tangled his fingers in Dean's hair, one hand still propping him up against the door. With his boyfriend's permission, he gave in to his desire and slowly rocked his hips forward, relishing the wet slide of Dean's mouth over sensitive flesh. He set up a steady rhythm, going a bit deeper each time, gaining confidence when he was met with no resistance. He rubbed his thumb lovingly around the circle of Dean's lips where they stretched around his cock. "So fucking beautiful."

Dean hummed gently and allowed the door to cushion his head as Aidan set his pace.  He relished the graze of Aidan's cock on his tongue and the salty taste of his lover.  His hands, meanwhile, kneaded Aidan's perfect glutes, encouraging his pleasure.

The feeling of a mouth around him, the hands massaging his ass, after three months of nothing - it was too much all at once. Aidan could feel his release pooling at the base of his spine. _Too soon_ , he thought desperately. He tugged at Dean's hair and tried to pull back. "Babe, I need to - God, I'm too close."

But Dean wouldn't let him pull off.  "Nunh unh," he muttered around Aidan's member, encouraging him to cum in his mouth.  

The vibrations sent him over the edge; Aidan's hips stuttered helplessly, his hand clenching in Dean's hair as he rocked in deep and spilled down his lover's throat with a harsh cry.

Dean's hands clutched fervently at Aidan's ass as he swallowed his release, sensory memory delighting at the taste. "God," he groaned, allowing Aidan to help him to his feet.  "I missed the taste of you.  And I missed your ass. Speaking of..." he strode forward, in a very Fili-esque manner, looking around on the projectionists' worktable.  "Aha!" he produced a small bottle of hand lotion.  "Now we really need to thank the projectionist."

Chest heaving with the force of his orgasm and blood still migrating back to his brain cells, it took Aidan's sex-addled mind a couple of minutes to catch up. Once he did, he practically launched himself into Dean's arms, scraping his teeth over his throat and pressing a firm thigh into the other man’s obvious arousal. "Fuck yeah, darlin', want to feel you inside of me for _days_."

"I'd stay there for days on end, if I could," Dean confessed, not shy about rubbing lasciviously against Aidan's muscular thigh for the friction it provided.  "Mmmm," he surveyed the room.  "How 'bout there?" he jerked his head towards a couch. "Wanna bend you over the arm and fuck you like there's no tomorrow, atamanel," he breathed in his boyfriend's ear.

"Âzyungâl, you can have me anywhere you like," Aidan slipped easily into Kili's accent, hands already working open Dean's fly, fingers slipping inside to tease the tip of his erection.

"Not so fast, tiger," Dean scolded.  "I'm ready to explode and your finger is dangerously close to my trigger.  Let's get _you_ ready," he soothed a hand over the swell of Aidan's bum, then turned him around.  "Put your hands there, on the arm of the sofa, and bend over," he grinned, slapping Aidan's ass playfully.  As Aidan complied, Dean uncapped the lotion and sniffled it, nodding and raising his eyebrows in approval. He took a moment to simply drink in the sight of Aidan's long-missed posterior. Then, he moved forward and slid Aidan's trousers down further.  "I'll start with my fingers," he whispered in Aidan's ear.  "If that's all right with you."

Aidan practically purred, arching his back to present his sculpted behind to his lover. "Mmmm, love your fingers, they feel so thick inside of me. I tried fingering myself, you know, while we were apart, pretending it was you." He sighed and let his heated face drop to the sofa by his hands. "It wasn't the same."

"Never is," Dean smiled.  "I threw my back out once trying to find my prostate and gave up." He gently rucked up Aidan's dress shirt and squirted about a tablespoon of lotion into the dip of Aidan's spine, directly above the crack of his ass.  "It's a little cold," he apologized.  "Sorry, Aid." He dipped two fingers into the white cream and slid it down into the cleft of Aidan's ass, circling his opening ever so slowly.

The first touch of cold liquid against his back made him flinch, but he quickly relaxed under the familiar, teasing touch against his entrance. Aidan loved this part, the anticipation of it, the way his muscles clenched at each gentle press of Dean's fingers around the rim. He pushed back against the soft caress.

He aimed for a demanding tone, but it sounded more like a whine even to his own ears. "More. Now."

"Oooh, pushy boy," Dean teased, dipping a finger playfully inside him to the first knuckle.  "One might begin to think you don't get laid regularly.  You _don't_ get laid regularly, do you?" Dean wondered.

Aidan pushed himself back onto the finger, taking it in a bit deeper and rocking slowly, hips rolling invitingly. He smirked over his shoulder. "Nah, I've got this boyfriend, you see. Long distance, but a really possessive bugger. I wouldn't cross him."

"A wise move.  Very wise indeed," Dean said soothingly.  "Because he sounds like the jealous type." Dean added more lotion and a second finger, crooking them with practiced expertise into Aidan's sweet spot.

Sparks of pleasure shot up Aidan's spine and he let out a long moan when Dean's clever fingers brushed his prostate; he was already hard again, and he rocked his hips a little more urgently against the fingers inside of him. "He needn't worry," he somehow managed to gasp the words out, locking eyes with Dean again over his shoulder, "This is all his. Has been for awhile."

Dean's dick leapt with desire at Aidan's smoldering glance. "Mmmm, well, then he's a lucky guy." He switched to three fingers, afraid he wouldn't last much longer.

Aidan's legs fell apart further at the increase in pressure and his head thunked onto the arm of the sofa, feeling deliciously full for the first time in ages. His breath hitched in his chest and his hips bucked into thin air; he longed for friction against his aching prick, extra sensitive from his earlier orgasm. Concentrating, he clenched his internal muscles around Dean's fingers and groped sightlessly behind him, suddenly wanting to feel the man’s skin under his hands. " _Dean_."

"I'm right here, baby," Dean breathed in his ear, slotting his hip against Aidan's flank. "I've got you." He removed his fingers gently but quickly, and undid his own trousers, freeing his aching erection, which he expeditiously coated with lotion. "I love you, Aidan Turner," he said softly, lining up and easing himself inside his boyfriend.

It was a miracle Aidan didn't come as soon as the thick head of Dean's cock breached his opening, and he let out a sob of relief when he felt the slow, familiar press of his lover filling him up. It felt like coming home. "Fuck, I love you too. So much." His sweaty fingers closed around Dean's hip, arm bent awkwardly behind him as he pulled him in closer.

Dean knew Aidan was ready for him, so he slid all the way home.  "Unnngh," he moaned in Aidan's ear, enjoying the press of their bodies from chest to thigh.  "Missed this. Missed us," he drew back a few inches and slowly began setting a pace, driving into Aidan passionately, grazing his prostate every few passes.  "Not sure how long I'll last tonight, Aid," he panted.  "I'm so close." 

"Me too, love - don't hold back, Dean." He rolled his hips back to meet every thrust, keening his pleasure into the muggy air of the projection room whenever Dean grazed that special spot inside of him. Sweat poured down Aidan's spine, soaking through his dress shirt; he couldn't wait until they got back to the hotel room and had more time. He'd imagined peeling that tuxedo off of Dean from the moment they'd arrived at the theatre. "We'll have more time later, just let go."

Needing no second invitation, Dean did just that.  While one hand gripped Aidan's hip just short of bruising, the other stroking Aidan's cock, Dean began fucking him in earnest, nailing Aidan's sweet spot with each thrust of his slim hips.  In under thirty seconds, he found himself caught up in the strongest orgasm he'd experienced in years.  His toes curled and he fell forward onto Aidan's back, riding out the waves of pleasure.

Feeling his lover's release spreading deep inside of him and dripping down his thighs was enough to wring a second orgasm from Aidan as well, balls drawing up tightly as he fucked into the tight circle of Dean's fist, spilling hotly over his hand and staining the side of the couch in front of him. He lurched forward under Dean's dead weight, legs suddenly jelly, and collapsed to his knees with Dean still on top of him.

Chuckling, Dean eased his body off of Aidan's.  "Oh, man," he panted.  "That was..."

Aidan smiled, eyes sparkling, and turned to face his boyfriend, flopping back to rest his weight against the side of the sofa when he felt something wet against his back. He pouted and squirmed away. "Ugh, I thought one of the benefits of fucking while standing was _no_ wet spot." 

"The projectionist will not be pleased," Dean caressed the side of Aidan's face lovingly.  "I'm sure there's some Kleenex around here somewhere.  I'll make a go at cleaning it, and you, up.  D'you supposed they've noticed we left?"

"Well, we've either been gone for about 15 minutes." Aidan nuzzled into Dean's palm before biting it playfully. "Or 10 hours. You've fucked my sense of time right out of me."

Dean fetched some tissues and lovingly cleaned up his boyfriend's back, his own hands and the unfortunate sofa. Despite their best efforts at straightening up, they both had a distinct we've-just-been-fucking look.  And Aidan was practically glowing. 

Aidan smiled broadly, taking in the flush in Dean's cheeks, the bright red hickey that peeked out above his collar. He brushed a finger across it lightly as he put the finishing touches on Dean's bowtie. He pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, feeling giddy. "Is there any possible way we do not look like we were just fucking each other's brains out?"

"Well, they did serve a great deal of champagne downstairs.  We could use that as an excuse," Dean shrugged. "Or we could just sneak past everyone and hop a limo back to our hotel for round two," he suggested, grabbing Aidan's hand.

Aidan's smile brightened and he made his way purposefully toward the door, dragging Dean along behind him and back down the stairs. He turned on the bottom step and waggled his eyebrows. "You know, limos _do_ have dividers. Think you're up for three rounds tonight, blondie?"

**Author's Note:**

> chemicaldefect: Aw, poor sofa  
> ThornyHedge: LUCKY sofa  
> chemicaldefect: Fair point. I’ve never been jealous of a sofa before.
> 
> My first time RPing, so many, many thanks to ThornyHedge for walking me through it (and playing Dean so brilliantly…it was sometimes distracting :-P).
> 
> Khuzdul translations:
> 
> atamanel - breath of all breaths  
> âzyungâl - lover


End file.
